


I Like You A Latte

by spraycansoul



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee, Concert, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Music, Pick Up Lines, barista!patroclus, ish, patrochilles - Freeform, puns, singer!achilles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spraycansoul/pseuds/spraycansoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Aren't you gonna ask for my name?" Achilles teased, gesturing to the cup.</p><p>Pat shrugged and gestured to the empty cafe. "Don't need to."</p><p>"In that case, can I ask for yours?"</p><p>Patrochilles two-shot. Coffee shop/modern au. In which Pat is a barista and Achilles is an up-and-coming indie pop singer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

BRI  
Can you cover for me today? PWETTY PWEASE

Me  
Ugh. You owe me.

BRI  
Yes!!! Thank you, love you! ❤

Patroclus groaned. Taking an extra shift at the cafe was not in his schedule today, but he figured he had nothing else to do anyway. And he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to hold this over Briseis’ head if he ever needed to skip a shift too.

“If only I got the extra pay,” he grumbles to himself as he pulls his hood up over his head and steps out onto the street.

* * *

It had been a slow day at the cafe, if not for one customer whose order was so complicated and obnoxious, he’d had to write it on a separate sheet of paper as opposed to directly on the cup. Was there any other way you could order a venti iced half-caf sugar-free ristretto cinnamon dolce soy skinny latte with less words? And really, was there a need for it?

At any rate, the cafe was empty, and Patroclus was leaning on the counter, back to the register and earphones in, waiting for Bri’s shift to end. He’d been watching videos on his phone of an indie-pop singer who’d just penetrated the scene—and a very cute one at that. Pat had just come across one of his live performances on his Facebook feed, and he’d clicked on the video at the sight of the boy in the thumbnail. He looked about nineteen or twenty (just about Pat’s age, he had guessed), had long curly blond locks that fell down to his shoulders, and piercing green orbs. He was—for lack of better term—beautiful.

And his _voice_. Gods, his voice was smooth as butter and sweet as sugar. The boy could _sing_. He was the kind of singer who closed their eyes when they sang, the kind who drew you in with every note, whose voice carried so much emotion, Patroclus felt it through his earphones. 

To say he was hooked would have been the understatement of the year.

He was only momentarily shaken out of his trance by the sound of a clearing throat. He jumped up at the sound, almost dropping his phone, and quickly ripped his earphones out. 

It took him a second to register what he saw when he turned around, because he could have sworn that the image on his screen had just come to life in front of him. Or that his brain was just playing tricks with him. Because this couldn’t really be happening right now.

But there was no mistaking it—standing on the other side of the counter was the boy with the blonde hair and the green eyes and the magic voice. The one he’d been ogling at on the screen of his phone for the last fifteen minutes.

The boy looked like he was suppressing a grin, but his eyes were giving him away. “Hey,” he offered, running a hand through his golden locks. Patroclus noted that his hair was longer and looked much softer in real life, and his speaking voice was just as beautiful as his singing voice. The smile was still playing at his lips.

Pat froze and felt his face heat up at the sight of him. _He saw me watching him. Oh,_ gods, _I’m screwed._

“H-how can I help you?” he stuttered, cheeks still red, avoiding the boy’s eyes. He had never felt this embarrassed in his life, but he was also a little bit giddy and starstruck. His words started swimming in his head, and he felt a little faint.

He heard the boy— _Achilles_ , he reminded himself—chuckle lightly, and he looked up to see him smiling—brilliant white teeth and all. “I’ll just have a grande java chip, if that’s no trouble,” he recited smoothly, handing him a bill.

“Of course,” Pat nodded, taking the money and punching in the order. He handed back the change, but Achilles shook his head lightly. “It’s alright,” he said, giving him another brilliant smile.

Patroclus grabbed a cup to his left, and started scribbling on it. He looked up to see that Achilles hadn’t left the counter, and the almost-smile was back on his lips. “Aren’t you gonna ask for my name?” he asked teasingly, gesturing to the cup. 

Pat shrugged, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Don’t need to,” he replied, as coolly as he could manage, gesturing to the empty cafe. Though he could have also brought his phone out and waved it in his face if he still hadn’t gotten the idea.

Achilles' small smile broke out into a full-on grin, and he leaned over the counter. “In that case, can I ask for yours?”

 _What the fuck is happening._ Patroclus gripped the cup in his hand a little more tightly. “Um,” he cleared his throat, grasping for the words. "Pat. Or, I-I mean, Patroclus.” He managed a flustered smile in Achilles’ direction before averting his eyes back to the cup he was holding.

“Patroclus,” Achilles repeated, his name rolling off his tongue smoothly. _Pa-tro-clus._ He held his hand out, and Pat hesitantly shook it. _Warm,_ he thought. _And definitely real._ “I’m Aki, but you already knew that.” Achilles tapped on the counter, winked, and strolled off to the corner. 

Patroclus stood there for a second, dumbstruck, before gathering himself. He started working on Achilles’ drink, fumbling around the bar, trying to clear his mind. It should have been a breeze (because it was also one of his favorites) but his mind was in another place—more specifically, in the corner, about twelve feet away, in a large stuffed chair, where a certain green-eyed boy was absent-mindedly toying with his phone.

Patroclus couldn’t seem to comprehend what had just happened. This boy had literally walked off of his screen and into the cafe without so much as a sound, and here he was, asking for his name? And _winking_?

Maybe it was just something he did to everyone. Something he did for fans.

Or maybe— _gods forbid_ —he was flirting?

Patroclus shook his head, as if it would get rid of these crazy thoughts. There was no reason Achilles would take special interest in him, and he wasn’t going to stand there and pretend that that’s what happened.

But he couldn’t talk himself out of giving him the big cookie he’d just heated up for free. He _was_ a fan, after all.

“Here you go,” Patroclus said when he got to the corner where Achilles was seated. He was clutching the tray so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. He was afraid he would drop it and break something.

Achilles looked at the tray when Patroclus set it down and a flash of confusion appeared on his face. “Oh, I didn’t—"

“On the house,” Patroclus said, smiling at the floor and tugging at the curls that hung right above his neck. He had never been nervous talking to other customers before, but for some reason, he couldn’t let his guard down with this guy.

“Wait,” Achilles said, a huge smile plastered on his face, just as Pat had turned to leave. “I just, um… Do you wanna share it?” he said sheepishly, a faint red tint appearing on his cheeks. _Hm. That’s new._ "The cookie, I mean.” 

“I gotta get back to…" Patroclus turned around, surveying the empty cafe. He didn’t really have anything else to do, and this boy was cute and talented and seemed interested, so he really had nothing to lose. Except his dignity, of course. “I mean, sure. Okay.”

Conversation was easy with Achilles, Pat had soon realized. Once he’d become comfortable (or as comfortable as he could get when four feet away from a celebrity) they bantered back and forth, trading jokes and coffee shop pick-up lines. (Pat had immediately lost all coherent thought after Achilles had pulled out “Hot tea for a hottie?" when he came back with a cup of earl grey for himself.) Thankfully, he was not one of those big-headed pop stars with the groupies and the drug addiction. He seemed like a regular guy (if not for his unbearably good looks) and Patroclus found himself willing every person who passed by outside not to come in and disturb the little bubble they’d created in the space of half an hour.

But bubbles tend to pop, one way or another.

They were both laughing at Achilles’ parody of a popular Drake song (“Chai got my eyes on you,” he’d sang jokingly, and it was all Patroclus could do not to melt into a puddle right there) when Achilles’s phone started vibrating on the table, and he snatched it up to check the caller ID. 

“Shit,” Achilles hissed, declining the call. “I-uh, I’m really sorry, Pat, but I gotta run.” He looked at him apologetically as he stood up to gather his things. “Soundcheck,” he explained further, and Patroclus nodded. He knew this would have to come to an end _some_ time, but he couldn’t help but feel it was too soon. 

“Of course. I’m sorry for keeping you,” Pat said, standing up as well to put their cups back on the tray.

“It’s not your fault,” Aki shrugged, smiling. “I wanted to stay.”

Patroclus smiled back. “Well, you can always come back—"

“Oh!” Achilles exclaimed suddenly, patting his pockets. He took his wallet and a pen out of his back pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. “Here,” he said a moment later, holding it out to Patroclus and flashing him a winning smile. “You should swing by later. The venue’s just down the street.”

Pat took the piece of paper and examined it. It was a ticket to a concert— _Achilles’ concert_ —later that night.

“I’ll be there,” Patroclus announced, mostly to himself, and Achilles laughed.

“I’m counting on that.”

For a moment, they both stood there, looking at each other. Patroclus became keenly aware of how close they were, just about a stride apart, and he’d just then discovered the golden flecks in the green of Achilles’ eyes.

 _One more step_ , he thought. _I could reach out and touch him._

They were both jolted back to reality by Aki's phone, which had just started to ring again—audibly, this time. Achilles looked down at it, and frowned. "I should go. Thanks for the cookie! See you later?" he said, stumbling over his words and starting for the door. 

"That you will." Patroclus held up his hand in a small wave and smiled as he watched him go. 

Achilles gave him one last megawatt smile before disappearing onto the street. 

Patroclus looked down at his ticket before flipping it over. Despite himself, he smiled and blushed at the sight of the phone number scrawled messily on the back.

And under it: _I like you a latte._ :)


	2. Chapter 2

As Achilles made his way down to the venue, keeping his head low so he wouldn't be recognized, he had a nagging feeling that he forgot something.

There was, of course, his head, which he had apparently left behind with the bronze-skinned boy with ebony curls. 

He patted his pockets again, for good measure. _Wallet, keys, phone._ But there was something else, something he had forgotten to give, not take.

It was then that it had dawned on him that he should have given Patroclus a backstage pass, or at least the name of his manager, so he could get into the green room after the show.

When he finally arrived at the venue, his manager had been pacing in the empty pit.

"Where have you been?" Odysseus demanded when he saw him, crossing his arms. "We're already running late!"

Achilles sighed loudly. "I just went to get some coffee, jeez. I'll go up there in a second."

"You'll go up there right now is what you'll do."

Achilles crossed his arms to match Odysseus' stance. "Fine, but you'll have to tell security to add someone to the guest list."

Odysseus looked surprised at his request, if not mildly amused. "Fine, what's the name?"

Achilles couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face when he pictured the boy with the caramel skin. "Patroclus."

"Patroclus what?"

This effectively snapped him out of his trance. "I... I don't know," he admitted sheepishly. He mentally cursed himself for not asking for his full name. In the past half-hour, he'd learned a bunch of things about Patroclus—he liked his tea with milk, he tended to tug at his curls when he was getting nervous, and he had a close friend named Bri who had asked that he cover for her that day—and yet he hadn't learned his last name.

Odysseus tutted good-naturedly. "Hm. Okay. I'll take care of it, but you have to start soundcheck right now."

"You got it." Aki bolted up the stage, grabbing his guitar off of its stand and taking his place center stage.

He took a deep breath as he looked down at the empty pit. It was four hours 'til doors, five until the show started, but he was already more nervous than he had ever been before.

* * *

"Five minutes," Odysseus told Achilles, who had just changed into a short-sleeved printed denim button-down, black skinny jeans, and stylish white oxfords. His long blond hair had been tied back into a bun, with stray curls hanging to frame his face.

Aki nodded and reached for his guitar, his safety blanket. In the last five hours, his nerves only got worse, and the only thing that had helped calm him down just the smallest bit was the comforting weight of his instrument on his shoulder. He strummed it once to check if it was tuned, and headed up to stage right.

He belted out the last of his vocal warm-ups, hi-fived everyone in his band as they passed him, and jumped up and down. The nerves didn't go away. He heard rabid screaming from just beyond the doorway as the guys in his band appeared one by one on stage, starting with drums and bass. The intro progressed for a few more seconds, and then it was his turn to take the stage.

He felt Odysseus' hand on his shoulder. "Break a leg, kid." And then he was off.

The second he stepped onstage, the screams doubled in volume. He shot the crowd a dazzling smile before launching straight into his first song, a dance-y synth-driven tune. His eyes scanned the crowd, or at least the portions of it that the moving lights allowed him to see, and just like magnets, his eyes locked on Patroclus'.

Patroclus had been standing to his right, somewhere in the back, swaying along with the moving crowd, but Achilles had picked him out immediately. His grin widened as he sang when he finally spotted him, and he saw Patroclus whoop and give him a small wave. Aki's heart picked up a little, as if it hadn't already been pounding at his chest, and he winked in Pat's direction. He swore he saw the girl next to him swoon.

Achilles loved performing—he felt at home on stage, behind the microphone, with his guitar in his hands—but even more than that, he found that he loved performing for Patroclus. He sang every word of every song to him, his passion fueled by Pat's bright eyes, and before long, his nerves were replaced with adrenaline and euphoria.

He was well acquianted with the idea of one night stands, with random hook-ups and casual sex, but when he looked at Patroclus, he felt like he wanted more. He felt like he wanted to _know_ him, to _be_ with him. Which was strange, because he also felt that he already knew him from somewhere. He felt that no matter how many gorgeous boys he will ever come across in his life, he will never look at any of them the same way as he looks at Patroclus.

Before he knew it, they'd already powered through half his set, and he'd already gone through two bottles of water. The lights dimmed a little and a spotlight focused on him as the rest of his band left the stage, signalling the start of the acoustic portion.

"How are we feeling tonight?" he yelled, and the crowd roared in response. "I'm going to do a little acoustic segment for you lot today, if you don't mind." He absentmindedly strummed at his acoustic to steady his shaking fingers.

He found Patroclus again, locking eyes with him. "This, uh, this next song... isn't really on the tour set list, but I thought you might appreciate a little cover tonight." 

Patroclus gave him an encouraging smile, and the crowd went wild at the mention of a special cover, so Achilles took those as his cue to start.

"Sing along if you know it." He took a deep breath, carefully placed his capo, and started strumming. Some girls let out some shrieks of delight and excitement, and the rest of the crowd waited to see what song Achilles had deemed worthy enough to add to the set.

He paused a bit at the end of the intro, drew in a breath, and smirked. "Chai got my eyes on you," he sang directly at Patroclus, who had bust into wild laughter. The rest of the crowd cheered, oblivious to this interaction. Achilles grinned when he saw Pat had turned beet red (and not just because of the lights), and he continued, his eyes piercing holes in Pat's face.

_You're everything that I see_  
_I want your hot love and emotion endlessly_  
_I can't get over you_  
_You left your mark on me_  
_I want your hot love and emotion endlessly_

Achilles had learned the song just an hour before, the idea first coming to him as a joke, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do it. If this was his one shot at impressing Patroclus, he was not letting it go to waste. And besides, the song was perfect—it said exactly what he wanted to say. He quickly put together an arrangement, ran it by Odysseus (who'd only conceded when Aki agreed to remove a song later in the set), and when he got the thumbs-up from his band, he was ecstatic. And nervous—because what if Pat didn't appreciate it?

But there was no doubt in his mind that he'd made the right decision then. Patroclus' blush was outrageous, even in the dim lighting, and his smile never left his face. He looked utterly elated—his hair splayed all over his face, beads of sweat pooling at his neck, but his eyes bright with happiness—and Achilles realized right then and there that he would literally do anything and everything to make him look that way as often as he could.

* * *

When Achilles had showered and dressed after the show, he finally checked his phone. His face fell when he discovered that Patroclus still hadn't called or texted. 

"Issey?" he called at his manager, who was lounging on the sofa. "Anyone come around?"

Odysseus gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, mate."

Achilles nodded, pressing his lips together, as he made his way to sit down next to him. "'S not your fault."

He blamed himself for assuming that Patroclus had wanted to see him again. He'd gotten his hopes so high up that it hadn't even occurred to him that Pat might not even show—it was actually more than enough that he even came to watch.

"So?" Odysseus prompted. "Are you going to see him again?"

"What?" Achilles blinked.

"You're just gonna let him go? Just like that?" 

Achilles looked at his manager questioningly. "What do you suggest I do, then?"

"Well," Odysseus started, pulling up his calendar app. "We don't leave here until the day after tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure you know where to find him..."

Achilles' eyes widened at his realization. Maybe Patroclus hadn't wanted to see him again, but he certainly had wanted to see Patroclus.

And he was going to, no matter what.

* * *

Achilles did all but burst into the cafe the next day, two hours earlier than when he'd arrived before, because he knew Pat hadn't been working his shift then. The place was still relatively empty—just a girl on her laptop and an old man reading a newspaper—but not as empty as he'd felt when he discovered that a girl was waiting at the counter.

Achilles ran a hand through his hair before approaching her, crossing the space in long strides, and the barista greeted him with a bright smile. 

"What can I do for you?" she says, tapping her fingers on the counter in a certain rhythm.

"I—uh," Achilles mumbled. "I'm looking for Patroclus?" His answer came out more like a question, and he mentally slapped himself. Why was he so on edge?

The girl looked surprised, but pleasantly so. "Oh! You're Achilles?" she asked excitedly. clapping her hands. 

Achilles stared at her for a moment. "You're, um, Briseis?" he ventured, remembering the name Patroclus had mentioned the day before.

The barista— _Briseis_ , he'd concluded—looked delighted. "He wasn't kidding!" she exclaimed, staring at him. "You really _are_ pretty!" She laughed then, clearly amused.

"Thanks," Achilles said sheepishly. "You are too. Hey, listen, is he here or not?" he rapped, unable to wait any longer. He hadn't meant to be rude—he hoped it didn't sound that way, but his nerves were getting the best of him.

Briseis was taken aback by his straightforwardness, but she recovered quickly, still looking thouroughly amused. "He's in there, just preparing to leave," she chucked her thumb in the direction of the 'employees only' room. "I think you can still catch him if you waited out back."

Achilles nodded once, getting ready to bolt. "Thankssomuch!" he called out, racing out of the cafe and onto the back alley.

When he turned the corner, he immediately spotted Patroclus, who was walking away from him. He kept running until he was only a few feet away, and Patroclus turned around when he heard the sound of his feet on the concrete.

"Aki?" he called, looking dazed. Achilles noted the brightness of his eyes then, how they seemed to glow in the shadows.

"You—I mean, I..." Achilles panted. "I just wanted to see you again," he breathed, moving closer to him still. "We didn't get to talk last night." He shoved his hands in his pockets so that Patroclus couldn't see that they were shaking.

Patroclus shook his head, looking down at his hands, before he started rambling. "I'm really sorry, you were amazing, but it's just, the ticket, I hadn't realized they were going to rip it in half, so I had, like, the last five digits and I couldn't really call, and I really wanted to look for you but I didn't know where to go and I just—why are you looking at me like that?" 

Achilles was staring at him, grinning ever so widely. "I thought you didn't want to see me anymore," he confessed, shaking his head. "I was waiting for you. I had your name put on the guest list and everything."

They stared at each other, smiling and trying to read the other's eyes, before Achilles broke the silence.

"I, uh, had meant to give you something, actually, but I forgot..." He pulled out a laminate, complete with a lanyard. He held it out for Patroclus, and Pat took it, their fingers lightly brushing.

Patroclus looked down at the backstage pass, confused, "I'm never going to be able to use it," he pointed out, but he put it on anyway.

Achilles laughed. "Just a remembrance, then. So at least you know I was thinking about you."

Pat reddened, pulling at his curls. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Achilles willed himself to take another step forward. "Actually, there was something else I forgot to do yesterday."

"Oh," was all Patroclus could manage.

Their faces were only inches away now, and Achilles could feel Patroclus' heart beat from where he stood. "Yeah," Achilles breathed, brushing away a stray black curl and tucking it behind his ear. 

He titled his head down and closed the space between them, catching Patroclus' lips in his. He kissed him softly at first, trying to gauge his reaction, but then Patroclus is kissing him back, and he's noticing all sorts of things, like how he tastes like toffee, how his fingers leave tingles on his scalp as they slowly slip through his hair, how he wants to be closer and closer and closer yet to him even though it was already probably physically impossible.

They pulled apart after a while, trying to catch their breath, both of them unable to control their grins. Achilles cupped Pat's face in his hand, lightly rubbing circles on his skin, and Pat leaned into his touch.

"For the record," Patroclus whispered, brushing his lips on Achilles' palm, "I like you a latte, too."


End file.
